


Fated

by APocketSizedAce



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: And i get full bragging rights on doing it first, Every ship needs a soulmate au its basically a requirement, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, The bottom of the ocean is a romantic place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 02:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APocketSizedAce/pseuds/APocketSizedAce
Summary: Bastion and Orisa were different from the others. No Bastion or OR-15 Unit had ever had a soul mark, but the images drawn across their chests could not be anything else. There's a destiny waiting for them beyond the battlefield and the airport, because there's someone they need to meet.In a way, their soulmate saved their life.





	Fated

**Author's Note:**

> Soul bond speech is done in italics

  The Bastion Units, fresh off the assembly line, stand for inspection. It’s rare for an error in production to be spotted but it’s not unheard of. Fractured joints, faulty wiring or weak plating happened. But paint had never been an issue, which made the flash of colour on the chest of one of the unit’s stand out. It wasn’t a random paint splatter, the clearly defined triangle pattern on a shield much too precise.

  The two inspectors shared an uneasy glance with each other. This had implications nobody really wanted to consider. They then turned back to their jobs, pointedly not thinking about the soul mark on the chest of one of their soldiers.

* * *

 

  Efi stares at the OR-15 Unit stuck in the wall of the airport. More precisely, the Omnic’s chest. Pink flowers blooming on vines made of circuitry is drawn from the shoulder and spreads out about halfway down. Clear, undeniable proof that this one was special, that it had a destiny waiting beyond this.

  A picture of the soul mark and just a bit of shameless begging later and Efi convinces her parents to purchase that particular Omnic for her.

* * *

  Bastion knows something is... _off_ , about them. Remembers the pointing fingers and whispering voices. The shield drawn on their chest that everyone always stared at. Some of the other Omnics had pictures on them too so it couldn’t be that unusual. But no other Bastion Unit had one, maybe that was why the yellow and green mark drew so much attention.

  The look of shock that comes over the small human’s face isn’t unexpected. They’d seen that look on an enemy soldier’s face once, taking the shield in with wide eyes. But instead of unloading bullets like they had then they hold a flower out in offering. Something in the human seems to soften and he asks them to follow.

  He leads them to Overwatch. To poking hands, hushed whispers and an underlying feeling of anxiety. “Is that real?” The small woman with the headset reaches out to touch the shield but Bastion throws an arm over their chest, chirping indignantly.

  “Of course it isn’t. You honestly believe that _thing_ has a soulmate?” The large human with pink hair asks with a harsh laugh. Soulmate? What? “The only destiny it has is the scrapheap.” She glares at them, hand on her gun. Bastion splays their fingers over the green and yellow mark, an old habit meant to protect them from judging eyes. The thrum of their core underneath the plating is comforting, it almost feels like the shield is humming with its own power. Keeping them safe.

* * *

 

  Zenyatta is different than the others. The other Omnic let’s out a delighted gasp, no shock or distrust present. “What a lovely mark, your soulmate must be a very strong and caring person.” Bastion can hear the smile in his voice. Again that word. They whirr questioningly and the other laughs gently, laying a hand on their arm. The touch isn’t unwelcome. It feels friendly, unlike the grabbing hands from some of their human teammates. They don’t feel as if Zenyatta sees them as an object.

  “We are all born with a tether my friend. There is someone else on the other end of that tether, someone who destiny will always draw to you in every life. The marks you see on others are soul marks, made to represent what kind of person your soulmate is. When you reach a point in your relationship with that person the tether transforms into a bond, linking your souls together. Then both your marks change to represent the two of you.”

  They absorb this new information, tracing the yellow triangles absently. They still don’t really understand but something has clicked into place. Someone is out there that they’re supposed to meet.

* * *

  “So these marks just happen all on their own?” Orisa asked as she sits in the workshop, Efi pulling dents from her armour. The young girl grits her teeth as she pulls on a particularly deep dent, bracing her feet on the floor. “That does not make sense. How and why do they appear?” When the dent finally gives Efi stumbles backward a few steps before righting herself.

  “Nobody really knows Orisa,” She answers. “There have been decades of study but nobody can figure out how or why they happen.” The Omnic had been very curious about the delicate flower pattern drawn across her chest. Efi had seen her tracing the vines, mapping out the length and curves of the mark.

  Although she hadn’t told her, Efi thinks she knows the mark is what got her a second chance at life. “I hope I get to meet them soon.” Orisa says with a smile. She needs to thank them after all.

* * *

  Overwatch is a whirlwind, Orisa thinks to herself. People scurrying around, loud laughter and petty arguments. But off to the side, away from the chaos and manic energy is another Omnic. Quiet and withdrawn they prefer to keep away from to the center of it all. She’s seen them caring for their garden, the one place on base removed from the storm.

  She just needed some time for herself, somewhere quiet. She hoped they wouldn’t mind if she spent an hour or two in their garden. Turning the corner she finds they aren’t even there. She feels a little guilty coming into their space uninvited but she doesn’t trust herself to hold out much longer in the unceasing noise inside. She says a silent apology as she settles beneath a tree.

  It hasn’t even been 10 minutes before she hears footsteps approaching. Orisa gets to her feet in a sudden motion, unfortunately slamming right into the other and knocking them to the ground. “I am _so_ sorry, are you alright?” She asks, mortified. Bastion doesn’t respond, lamenting their now split bag of mulch. The contents have spilled everywhere and made a huge mess. They move to start gathering it up and Orisa kneels down across from them. “Here, let me help.”

  Unfortunately they only have two functional hands between the both of them, so scooping up the mulch is a bit difficult. Orisa brings a nearby wheelbarrow over and they start loading it in. “I do not believe we’ve met before. I am Orisa, what is your name?” The other’s single blue optic remains fixed on the ground, though the action seems more shy than rude.

  “Everyone calls me Bastion,” They murmur. “...It’s nice to meet you.” Orisa blinks in surprise, they have a lovely voice. Silence descended on the two of them, thick and heavy. She searches for something to say.

  “Did you grow this garden yourself?” She seems to have struck gold because she can see Bastion spring to life at the question. They speak eager and fast, telling her about the different species of flowers, how happy Angela was with the vegetable patch, and another dozen things about plant care. Watching how animated and passionate they are makes Orisa smile. She asks them more questions and time flies by for the two of them.

  Only when it starts getting dark do they realize how long they’ve been talking. Bastion laughs embarrassedly. “Sorry, I got carried away.” Their shy demeanour starts to seep back in, the joyful energy calming down.

  “It’s fine, I enjoyed our conversation,” She assures them. “Perhaps you could tell me more tomorrow.” They perk up a bit at that, giving a small nod. “Goodnight Bastion.” She waves to them before walking away and hears their own farewell from over her shoulder.

  Orisa settles in to recharge that night feeling right in a way she hasn’t before, as if puzzle pieces are starting to connect. Not yet the complete picture, but on the right track.

* * *

  Orisa finds herself spending more and more time with Bastion. They were easy to talk to, they didn’t care if she didn’t know all the fine details of socializing. She didn’t understand why some humans got so upset with her over small things like forgetting to ask how they were after they asked her.

  It still takes them time to start initiating with her, as if frightened of scaring her off. “What were you built for?” They ask her one day, genuine interest in their voice. Orisa blinks her optics, stunned, before feeling happiness surge through her because Bastion is starting to reach out back to her.

  “I was an OR-15 Unit before I was upgraded by Efi,” She begins. “Now my primary function is to aid and protect civilians.” She’s proud of how important her job is and that she was entrusted with it. Her hand comes up to trace the vines scrolling across her chest.

  Something in Bastion seems almost wistful. “That must be nice.” They say with a hint of longing in their voice. Orisa doesn’t say anything, but she wonders.

* * *

  Orisa doesn’t like how Bastion isolates themself. She knows it’s not out of a desire to be alone but a fear of others. If she could just get them to become closer with their teammates the others would see them like she did.

  “I know you don’t usually attend, but I think you’d like this one.” Orisa says. It was movie night tonight and it was Mei’s turn to pick. She had, predictably, chosen a nature documentary. Bastion seems reluctant still, being around all of their teammates for an extended amount of time didn’t sound like much fun. They start to make an excuse and Orisa moves in for the kill.

  “Mei told me the film covered material on the intricate ecosystem of the rainforest.” She knows she has them by the way their attention snaps back to her. Bastion had told her how they wanted to see the rainforest someday, it was one of the few things they hadn’t seen in their wanderings. They shift from foot to foot, weighing their pros and cons.

  “...Alright.” They say finally and Orisa counts that as a victory. She smiles at them, happy to see they’re taking a chance.

* * *

  The others give the two of them various looks of shock when Orisa walks in, Bastion trailing beside her. She waves to them which causes most of them to realize they’re being rude and return to their conversations. “Where do you want to sit?” She asks her friend. They scan the room before pointing to the less crowded floor by the armchair.

  The two of them settle into place, Bastion mimicking her by sitting with their knees tucked under them. Their usual method of flopping backwards wouldn’t be welcome indoors. Orisa notices the young woman in the armchair looks a little nervous, fingers drumming a fast rhythm on the armrest. Was Lena afraid of rainforests? That was an abnormal phobia to have. The pilot continues her anxious fidgeting for another minute before she leaps out of her chair and hurries over to sit in front of the overcrowded couch, despite there barely being room for her.

  Someone presses play and an aerial shot of tree tops appears on the screen along with the soothing voice of the narrator. It looks beautiful there and Orisa can practically feel the awe coming from Bastion. She glances at them and sees their attentive, happy posture. She likens it to a physical form of the excited way they talk about their interests. It’s cute. That last thought surprises her a little, but it is true.

  The documentary changes from plant life to what the narrator calls “birds of paradise”. The elaborate colours and feathers remind Orisa of a fashion show she’d seen on TV once, models strutting down runways in what the judges had called “ground-breaking fashion” that she couldn’t see anyone wearing at all. Bastion hums excitedly and paws at her shoulder. “Look! They’re so pretty!” They chirr at her. “So many colours, I want one.”

  Orisa laughs warmly at their antics. “I do not think Ganymede would take very kindly to having to share you.” For such a small creature the songbird had a temper on her and a possessive streak a mile wide. She’d seen Ganymede squawk at squirrels that had climbed on Bastion, hopping around until she scared off the competition. They seem to remember that too and laugh lightly. Orisa feels something warm and tender well up inside her at the sound. So cute.

  The two of them notice the other hushed conversations from around the room have stopped. All eyes are on the pair of Omnics, with looks varying from surprised to mischievous smiles to the beginnings of anger. Zenyatta gives Bastion a thumbs up from where he’s seated on the floor by the couch. They let out an embarrassed whistle and shrink down where they’re sitting, burying their face in the crook of their arm. “Is something wrong?” Orisa asks the crowd. All the attention is making her uncomfortable.

  Slowly everyone turns back to the film and their own whispered conversations. Orisa thinks she understands now why Bastion doesn’t like being around a lot of people at once. Having that many eyes on her at once gave her a frantic, underlying anxiety and a desire to disappear from sight. People tended to stare at Bastion whenever they made an appearance, it was no wonder they kept to themselves.

  The credits start to roll and people begin to disperse, going back to their rooms or the kitchen for a snack. Orisa gets to her feet and offers her hand to Bastion. They grasp it and something zips through them both, too fast to pinpoint but too strong to miss. It’s gone almost instantly and the two dismiss it as simple static charge. She pulls them to their feet. “Thank you for inviting me,” Bastion said. “You were right, I did like the movie.”

  Orisa laughs, remembering the way they’d practically bounced in their seat during the film. “I noticed, and I am glad that you enjoyed yourself.”

  She smiles at them, then gets the impression they smile back. “Goodnight Orisa.” They say before walking back to their room. She waves farewell to them but stays to watch them leave for a reason she doesn’t quite understand.

* * *

  It had been a bit of a hike to get down to the beach. It was about a 20 minute walk from the base then down a path in the cliff to get to the water but Bastion had been adamant about showing her the ocean up close. Standing on the shore and staring out at the wide, sparkling sea Orisa understands why. Bastion tugs her down to the surf and she follows along, giggling at their enthusiasm.

  The salt water is an odd feeling around her feet but Bastion splashes further in without concern so she wades ahead, confident in Efi’s water proofing upgrades. Seashells gleam from the bottom of the water and she leans down to grab a pink conch shell. “Bastion! Come and see what I’ve found!” She calls to her friend and they come sloshing through the water with all the grace of an Omnic their size, on par with a drunk elephant. They let out an appreciate woo, and make a motion asking her to hand it to them. She let’s them have it and they start to examine it from many angles. “I found it in the sand!” She tells them excitedly.

  “I wonder what we’d find further in?” They ask, handing her shell back to her. They don’t wait for an answer, already wading back into the surf. Orisa follows after them, curious as well. The two of them scoop up every shell they find, even ones they already have. Each one is excitedly showed off before they continue going further in. Only when the water is almost up to her neck does Orisa hesitate, nervous to submerge herself. Bastion seems to notice. “Let’s go put these on the beach, they’re getting hard to carry.” She readily agrees and the two of them make their way back to shore.

  They make a small pile of shells on the sand, and Orisa is sorting through them when Bastion speaks again. “I’ve walked underwater before,” They say. “It’s really beautiful. I’d like to show you.” There’s a tentative smile in their voice and she can’t find it in her to say no.

  “Okay.” She agrees and the way they light up makes her think it’s worth it. They jog back into the waves before looking over their shoulder in a clear “you coming?” motion. Orisa follows close behind them, trying not to think about the water rising up around her. When the ocean is up to her chin she hesitates, afraid to have her head below. Bastion grabs her arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, followed by a gentle tug. Orisa takes a moment to fortify her nerves and steps forward, water rushing over her.

  It’s quiet underwater, in a muffled sort of way. The waves break up the light, sending fractured sunbeams dancing along the bottom. Some fish swim past and she turns her head to watch them go. It’s beautiful, but above all it’s peaceful. In the muted quiet and soft pressure of water around her it feels like the world on the surface is far away and unimportant.

  Bastion’s hand is still on her arm and they’re looking at her. Orisa has gotten good at reading their body language and right now they’re giving the impression of a big smile. An odd impulse surges in her mind and Orisa hooks her arms around their waist, pulling them towards her and twirling around. She can hear the muffled squeak of surprise followed by delighted laughter from them both.

  The warm, golden glow from both their chests stops them in their tracks, pulling apart and the bubbly joy turning into shocked awe. Their marks are redrawn in shimmering golden lines, a green shield outlined in yellow with a single pink flower in the center, the petals turning out to be seashells upon closer inspection. The marks glow blindingly bright before the light fades away.

 Suddenly they are _aware_ of each other in every sense of the word. Orisa feels the very essence of her companion held close to her own. She sees right down to their core, knows their deep curiosity, the desire to be accepted, and the aching, ever present grief that stems from a loss on a scale so large nobody could relate to. They see her too, in all that she is. Her pride in what she does and the need to prove herself worthy of being saved, the persistent fear of failure lurking at the back of her mind.

  " _It’s you."_ It isn’t spoken out loud, not even fully formed words. It’s a thought, shared between them. Orisa shakes herself out of her trance and pulls Bastion close to her again. " _You saved my life, thank you."_ They don’t ask for context, they know just by the meaning in the thought. They found something neither of them had known was missing and both their souls fill with joy, together again.

* * *

  Genji leans over McCree’s shoulder. “Pay up cowboy, I called it.” Jesse groans and hands his friend a 20 dollar bill. Still, he can’t be too upset seeing how happy Bastion and Orisa seem together.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll fill this tag all by myself if I have to.


End file.
